


The Oikawas that made him blush

by ScriptaManent



Series: IwaOi Week 2020 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood, Christmas Fluff, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, IwaOi Week, IwaOi Week 2020 (Haikyuu!!), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent
Summary: Oikawa Tooru was easy to fall in love with. Nobody could resist the boy’s charm — not when he was born and grinning at blurry faces, not when he was five and covered in mud, not when he was seventeen and drenched in sweat. His best friend was no exception, but that didn’t make it easier to tell him.IwaOi Week 2020, Day 2: Childhood + Confessions
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: IwaOi Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036209
Comments: 14
Kudos: 146
Collections: IwaOi Week 2020





	The Oikawas that made him blush

At five years old, Oikawa Tooru was a very lively child, to say the least. He had the confidence of a kid who had people to rely on and found satisfaction in proving people wrong.

Anyone who met him immediately fell in love with the bubbly little boy, and Namiko was no exception. Her little brother had won her heart the second she had laid her eyes on him, even though it had been the first time that he saw the light of day and she had already been wandering around for nine years.

Soon enough, that bright little star had found his matching satellite in the person of another little boy. Iwaizumi Hajime, a bold and earnest kid that was everything Tooru wasn’t and yet was very similar to him in many aspects. They cared for each other deeply, and so it wasn’t uncommon for Tooru to disappear to the Iwaizumis’ or for Hajime to stay over at the Oikawas’. It didn’t take long for the two boys to become a part of each other’s family.

The thing was, everybody kept forgetting that Hajime was  _ Tooru’s _ friend in the first place. He was the one who had adopted the gruff boy, but everybody kept stealing him from him, especially Namiko, and he hated that Hajime never complained about it.

Worse, he seemed to enjoy the attention.

“Hajime-chan!” the girl purred, running to the boys to pull Hajime into a hug.

“Nee-chan, I can’t breathe!” the little one complained, but Namiko only laughed and tightened her embrace when Hajime tried to wiggle away.

She looked at her little brother from over the boy’s shoulder and he glared back at her. Namiko stuck her tongue out — it was  _ so _ childish of her! She was fourteen, she was a grown-up already!

Tooru puffed his cheeks and marched to them to tug at Hajime’s shirt, an upset scowl on his face.

“Let him go! You’re choking him!” he shouted, grabbing his sister’s arm and pulling on it when she refused to move.

He was furious, and still she dared to laugh in his face. She ruffled Hajime’s hair when she eventually released him, making a mess of his already spiky tufts.

Tooru quickly grabbed his friend by the wrist and dragged him out of Namiko’s reach. He faced Hajime with a serious frown, a pout settling on his lips, and made an attempt at fixing his hairstyle.

The other boy’s face was still red from Namiko’s intervention, and Tooru pettily tugged at a cowlick that refused to be tamed.

“Stop it, Oikawa!” Hajime groaned, stepping back and protecting his head from the other’s concern. “It’s fine!”

“But you look like a hedgehog, Iwa-chan,” Tooru countered with a sulky expression.

He averted his gaze to glare at the ground and kicked a pebble out of the way. Stupid Iwa-chan and stupid Namiko. It was all her fault, after all! She kept making Hajime all flustered, and Tooru hated everything about it.

When he turned to her, she was still watching them in silence, bearing a smug expression that reminded Tooru of a cat.

“Tooru is right on this one, Hajime-chan,” the girl laughed, a malicious light in her eyes. “Do you want me to fix it for you?”

“It’s not that bad,” Hajime muttered again, taking another step back.

He pressed his hands on his rebellious hair but it did nothing to help his case.

Namiko made a move to come closer and Hajime looked away, his cheeks painting with shades of red that made Tooru inexplicably angry.

“He’s not Hajime-chan, he’s Iwa-chan!” he barked at his sister, stepping in her way and spreading his arms to protect his friend.

She had the audacity to laugh again. There were moments when Tooru really resented his sister, and this was one of them.

No longer able to take it, he grabbed Hajime by the arm again and dragged him inside, away from Namiko and her stupid teasing. He made sure to keep an eye on his sister as they walked around them — she was a creature that couldn’t be trusted.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Tooru let out a sigh of relief. Now they were safe, and he could relax knowing that his sister wouldn’t steal his friend from him again.

“Hey, do I smell cookies?” Hajime asked out of the blue, his eyes suddenly shining with hunger, all the redness gone from his face.

Tooru followed his gaze to the kitchen door where effluves of sugar and chocolate were coming from. He could hear his mom humming to a song that played on the radio. She was in a very good mood.

He squeezed his friend’s hand and led the way to the snack.

Just like the rest of the family, Tooru’s mom too was fond of Hajime, but the boy also knew that with her he could use his friend to get more food. For this exact purpose Tooru was okay with sharing him.

* * *

Life was rarely quiet at the Oikawas’, and on Christmas Eve, there was not a single second that wasn’t filled with music and voices. Sounds filled the room, echoing outdoors and holding in the air as if the house was alive and breathing. It beat in rhythm with the music that pulsed up to the occupants’ rib cages.

Tooru cracked a joke, his laugh adding to the surreal atmosphere. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his eyelashes casting shadows on his skin. Hajime couldn’t help but notice how well he had aged — the roundness of childhood was gone from his cheeks, replaced by sharp angles that took nothing away from his charm. His hair was the same, silky chocolate that Hajime wished he could run his hand through.

When was the last time he had done it? They had probably still been kids only, back then. A simple touch, innocent and so much easier. Twelve years later, feelings had added up, layer after layer until he was completely wrapped in them without a way out. He didn’t complain, though, not when Tooru’s laugh alone was enough to make his cheeks tingle.

He refused to think about the future or about the fact it was probably their last Christmas together in Miyagi. He was past these concerns. The present was enough, it was what mattered. He’d take care of the rest when the time would come.

And yet, whenever Hajime as much as thought about telling his best friend that the way he looked at him had changed over the years, his heart started making somersaults like a trapped wild beast trying to escape. It was mildly annoying, but Hajime had grown used to this too.

“Boys, look up!” Namiko’s voice echoed from the couch, pulling him out of his reverie.

They both sent her a confused look — Tooru wide-eyed and Hajime frowning, as always. They turned around in the same motion to look at the staircase they had been leaning against, at the spot the woman was pointing at.

Among the wreaths, lights and other decorations hung a few branches of holly, their red fruits contrasting with the deep green of their leaves.

Hajime’s frown deepened. He didn’t see the glance that Tooru gave his sister, his brows twitching just slightly in a silent question that she answered with a barely noticeable smile — just a light shining in her eyes.

Hajime was still looking at the plant when a hand brushed his cheek, calloused from hours of practise and yet gentle, the skin familiar and the touch foreign. Tooru pulled him closer; he pressed his lips to Hajime’s and the latter froze, his mind blank, short-circuited. It was unexpected — his heartbeat engaged in a race as soon as Hajime realised what was happening. It was unexpected and it was measured, Tooru’s grip just enough to pull him in without containing him, his lips ghosting over Hajime’s for a bit longer.

Hajime melted into the touch; his eyelids closed on their own will. He lifted his hand to make the moment last for a little longer, reaching out to keep Tooru close, but he had barely started moving that Tooru pulled away. A bright smile, unfazed and lighthearted, appeared in Hajime’s vision but in his daze the ace was troubled.

“Tradition, Iwa-chan,” the other giggled, his eyes closed as he grinned.

Hajime was too taken aback to read his expression. No thought crossed his mind when Tooru sauntered away the next second, vanishing into the kitchen as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Hajime’s hand dropped back to his side.

“ _ It’s holly, not mistletoe, dumbass _ ,” he wanted to say, but the words caught in his throat.

He remained immobile an instant longer, then he grabbed his coat and scarf and went out on the terrace to get some more than needed fresh air.

The air was freezing, biting his cheeks without any mercy, but Hajime was glad it helped him clear his thoughts. His gaze followed a black cat on the other side of the street, playing with the few snowflakes that fell from the sky.

"I hope you're not smoking over here Hajime-chan,” a voice rose beside him, startling Hajime. “Else I'd be very disappointed."

Namiko gave him an amused look and settled beside him, leaning against the balustrade with her back to the street. She let her head fall back to gaze at the sky, as easy-going and lighthearted as her brother in spite of her twenty-six years

"Of course not. I was just… thinking,” Hajime eluded, wincing at his own hesitation and the side-eye glance that the woman sent him.

His shoulders tensed when a grin illuminated her face, sudden and blinding like a comet crossing the night sky. Her eyes twinkled, shining with the same malice as Tooru’s whenever he was about to tease his best friend, and Hajime braced himself for her next words.

"Don't use up all your neurons at such a young age!"

"Sometimes you sound just like your brother," he replied, repressing a mocking grin.

Namiko straightened up in a jolt, her hands balling into fists at her side.

"I sound nothing like him!" she shouted, and Hajime couldn’t help but burst out laughing when she made the exact offended face that was Tooru’s trademark — the one where his face scrunched-up and red rose to his cheeks.

She relaxed at the sound of his laughter and turned around to get in the same position as him, her elbow resting close to his. She nudged him gently and Hajime blew an amused sigh from his nose.

“So, tell me, is it because of Tooru?” she began after a moment of quiet stargazing.

Her voice was soft, caressing, but still the other stiffened ostensibly. He hoped that Namiko hadn’t felt him tensing up, but judging by the look she gave him, he had been caught.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?” she asked again, and it wasn’t as much a question as it was a statement. “Don't give me that look, Hajime-chan. I've known both of you for all of your lives. I've long noticed that I'm no longer the Oikawa who makes you blush."

Her grin spread on her lips as Hajime’s eyes widened and she laughed at the deep shade of red that painted his face up to the tip of his ears.

It wasn’t like he had ever tried to hide it, but to have the truth exposed like that in front of him, Hajime couldn’t help but be embarrassed. And out of all the Oikawas, it had to be the sister who had picked up on his feelings. There were times he really wondered why he had fallen in love with the other one.

That was a lie, he knew why he had — there wasn’t a side of Tooru that he didn’t like. Not that Hajime would ever tell him, the asshole would never shut up about it.

“Are you gonna do anything about it?” she insisted, nudging him again. “I mean, he did kiss you tonight.”

_ Gods _ , she wasn’t going to let it go, was she? As stubborn as Tooru. Hajime was pretty sure she actually took pleasure in seeing him so flustered.

She had always had, in hindsight, only the context had changed.

“This idiot mixed up holly and mistletoe, that’s it. Besides, you know how he is. He would have done the same with anyone else…” Hajime trailed off, a frown settling on his forehead as he realised that it sounded wrong.

Yes, Tooru could be a flirt and he enjoyed attention, but he would never play with someone’s feelings, stupid Christmas traditions involved or not.

Namiko’s eyes narrowed, betraying a sheer amusement that made Hajime’s skin heat up again.

“Whose idea was it?” he asked, staring straight into the woman’s eyes. “Who put the holly there?”

She rested her chin on her palm, her grin widening by the second. She was enjoying this a bit too much to the boy’s liking, but he couldn’t blame her.

“Take a wild guess.”

Hajime gaped, and suddenly he couldn’t face her anymore — not when she had the eyes of her brother and the same malicious light dancing in them. He turned his face away from her and brought his scarf higher on his face, trying as much as he could to bury himself in it.

This was stupid. He was stupid.  _ Tooru _ was stupid! The asshole had planned that all, and meanwhile Hajime had been struggling to find an opportunity to confess to his jerk of a best friend. The very same one who had had the audacity to run away after a kiss he had orchestrated himself.

“By the way, Hajime-chan,” Namiko called again, audibly repressing a laugh. “Nice scarf. You look good in pink.”

The other froze and glanced down, only then finding out that the scarf he had picked wasn’t his but Tooru’s. Of fucking course.

He buried his face deeper in it, at loss for words, and embraced the fact he was already too deep to get out of the situation.

“It’s coral”, he said instead, repeating what Tooru had said when Matsukawa had teased him at school. Namiko blinked in confusion, and Hajime insisted again. “Coral, not pink.”

_ Besides, Makki doesn’t have a monopoly on pink _ , the captain had added, and his friend had given up on the topic.

Hajime brought the scarf above his nose and basked in the warmth and the familiar scent of his best friend’s shampoo that impregnated the fabric.

The glass door slided behind them but neither paid any attention to it.

“It’s freezing out here, what are you guys doing?” Tooru asked, suspicious. “Iwa-chan, go back inside, we’ve got a match next week, I can’t allow my precious ace to get sick,” he scowled, placing his hands on his hips.

If he noticed that his best friend was wearing his scarf, he didn’t point it out.

“You’re one to talk. I saw you eat five loaves of milk bread in the past hour. If you get sick because of a sugar rush, I’m gonna hit you,” the other growled, turning to shoot a glare at Tooru.

Beside him, Namiko crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh so Hajime-chan has to go back inside but you don’t give a damn about your poor sister? You’re such an ungrateful little brother, Tooru!”

“Can you replace Iwa-chan on the court during a crucial match? No. Then, he’s my priority indeed. Besides, you’re old enough to know how to take care of yourself,” the younger one huffed, holding the door open.

A loud “ _ Tooru, you’re in or you’re out, but close the door!” _ came from the inside and the young man tensed up, flicking an alarmed look to the living room where his mother was probably standing. Namiko smothered a laugh.

“Come here, kids, we’re going to open the presents!” their dad called as well, and Tooru shot the other two an insisting look.

Takeru’s voice resonated in the house, excited.

Hajime let out a sigh and begrudgingly moved from his spot.

“You got this, Hajime-chan,” Namiko cheered, lightly pushing him in the back.

He glanced at her, avoiding to look directly at Tooru on his way, his blush barely hidden by the scarf that wasn’t even his own.

"I can't believe you still get flustered whenever she uses your name, Iwa-chan," Tooru huffed, giving his friend a dark look when he passed in front of him.

Hajime pretended not to hear, but he really liked the barely veiled affront he noted in Tooru’s voice.

The rest of the night carried on without anything troubling the jolly atmosphere. They exchanged presents, ate a very fancy dessert prepared by Tooru’s dad — he was a much better cook than his wife — and Takeru, and butchered a few songs that would probably have their owners turn in their graves.

Namiko kept giving barely veiled signals to Hajime to push him to act up but he had repeatedly turned them down. He would do this in time, without witnesses to remember whatever the outcome of his confession would be. The idea of the Oikawas rooting for them was as frightening as the idea of them seeing Hajime get rejected. He was pretty confident that Tooru wouldn’t take it wrong, though. It was in the casual touches and the words whispered in his ear, more common than usual, more playful.

It was also pretty obvious in the kiss Tooru had given him earlier, but Hajime tried not to linger on the moment, else he would probably combust on the sport, and that would be highly inconvenient.

Tooru was in a good mood on that night, and so was Hajime.

They had cleared the table and Hajime and Tooru had volunteered to wash the dishes. Alone in the kitchen with his best friend, Hajime carefully considered the opportunity. Tooru was babbling about something Hajime paid no attention to, absorbed in his own story. The rest of the Oikawas were in the living-room nearby but there was no reason for them to walk into the kitchen. Takeru was trying out one of his new video games and the family was watching intently as he beat his mother and grandparents at every challenge.

Hajime could always wait for a better opportunity, but he was done waiting. He glanced at his best friend, so blissfully oblivious to the storm raging inside Hajime, and cleared his throat as he resumed washing the dishes.

“By the way, Oikawa,” he started in a falsely dry tone. “That holly-as-mistletoe trick earlier. It was lame.”

The other stopped in the middle of his sentence, silence falling heavily upon the two of them as he tried to follow Hajime’s train of thoughts. The latter kept on washing the dishes as if he had prompted a casual conversation and not dug out a bomb that was about to explode.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Tooru asked eventually, and Hajime was pretty sure his voice was higher than usual.

He flicked him a quick look and saw nothing of Tooru’s usual assurance on his face. Rather, he was nervous. His stance was stiff, his shoulders pulled back as if he was expecting to take a blow and needed to be ready to run away. His hand hung in the air, clenching the cloth he used to dry the dishes, immobile. A rabbit caught in headlights.

Hajime looked back at the plates, plastering an innocent look worthy of Tooru’s on his face.

“If you wanted to kiss me you only had to ask instead of setting up such a stupid plan,” he declared in a detached way.

Tooru frowned, his cheeks reddening furiously. “Why would I even—”

“I wouldn’t have said no.”

A beat, and Tooru stared at Hajime like he had suddenly grown another head.

“But Nee-chan… I saw you blush every time she looked at you!” he exclaimed accusingly.

Hajime fought hard not to roll his eyes. He turned to the other, a slight frown on his forehead and a pinkish undertone to his cheeks. He got this.

“That’s for a different reason. She knows…” he faltered, cleared his throat again. He had already gone too far not to say it. “She knows she’s not the Oikawa I’m in love with.”

Tooru’s eyes widened in slow motion and his chest swole visibly when he inhaled; Hajime was pretty sure he stopped breathing during the next seconds. It was almost comical to see Tooru left speechless — Hajime wished he could have snapped a picture.

The only thing he couldn’t explain was why Tooru looked like he was two seconds away from murdering his best friend. This wasn’t usually a look Tooru had on his face, and it was so puzzling that Hajime stopped everything he was doing, anticipation weighing upon him.

"SIX YEARS!” Tooru eventually snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the other. “I've been dropping hints that I love you for SIX YEARS, Iwa-chan! I tried everything! I tried flirting with you, I tried making you jealous, and it took kissing you on Christmas in my own house for you to take the hint? And because Namiko told you?!" he yelled, so fast that Hajime had a hard time following everything.

“She didn’t tell me,” he objected calmly.

There was a lighthearted joy bubbling in his stomach, making him dizzy, and he tried hard to keep his amusement to himself.

"Iwa-chan, you're the worst!" Tooru continued like the drama queen he was — but really, his face was the human equivalent of a too ripe tomato, and Hajime cracked the smile he had been holding. "If you don't kiss me right now, I'm never talking to you again," the setter concluded in a plaintive tone, his eyebrows knitting together.

Hajime arched an eyebrow, smirking openly. “Silence for the rest of my life? Sounds like a dream.”

Tooru huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re mean, Iwa-chan. I’m breaking up with you.”

He was so flustered that he could barely look Hajime in the eyes, and it was oddly endearing. Hajime hadn’t been rejected, Tooru hadn’t even made fun of him — he had accepted his feelings as a fact, absorbed them to carry them with his own as if it was the most natural thing to do. It was the kind of person Tooru was: adaptable and listening, integrating people into his life to make them shine the brightest.

It made Hajime want to pull Tooru into a hug and kiss him right there, but he didn’t. Instead, he only allowed a smug smile to spread on his lips. He was having the time of his life, and he wanted to get the most out of the situation.

“How are you planning on ditching me if we haven’t even started dating?” the ace pointed out, grabbing a towel to dry his hands in a casual manner.

Tooru’s frown deepened and Hajime braced himself for the petty side of his best friend.

“You know what? That’s it. Now we’re dating. This way I’ll be able to break up with you!” Tooru declared in an almost defiant tone.

His blush took a darker shade of red, reaching his ears and his neck, and Hajime dropped his playful act in favour of a serious face.

“We’re dating?”

This wasn’t something he wanted to joke about.

“Yes,” Tooru nodded, making it sound like an order.

Hajime hesitated. Could it really be that easy? He had been trying to get there for months — Tooru had been trying for six years. Was it really okay for their relationship to take a step forward from something thrown in a joking tone?

Hajime searched Tooru’s eyes for any trace of amusement or doubt, but there was nothing more than sincerity in them, and the shimmer of a challenge that he wanted Hajime to accept.

“For real?” the spiker still asked.

Tooru flinched, his mask of confidence slipping from his face.

“For real. If you’ll have me.”

If Hajime’s bluntness could be disarming, so was Tooru’s genuineness, and Hajime found himself melting completely, softening up to the core of his bones.

“Okay.”

Tooru blinked, his expression switching to sheer surprise. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

A smile carved Hajime’s face.

“Okay, then,” Tooru said again, nodding slowly as he took in the situation.

Hajime turned back to the dishes, frowning at the now cold water. Beside him, Tooru stared in disbelief, only processing what had happened. It had taken six years for him to ask his best friend out, and it had happened in such an anticlimactic way that he couldn’t believe it was real. 

* * *

That night, when Hajime entered the room, there was no futon ready for him on the ground. Instead, Tooru was in his bed, pressed against the wall to leave room for the other, his eyes resolutely closed.

“So, we’re doing this, huh?” Hajime asked, standing in the middle of the room like it was the very first time he had been allowed in.

“Don’t say it like that!” Tooru yelped, jolting upright to look at his friend, his face flushed. “The spare futon is in the dresser, if you want it,” he added, pointing at the piece of furniture. “I just thought that…”

Tooru trailed off, shrugging dismissively when he didn’t end his sentence, and Hajime let out a soft sigh. He feigned not to be affected by the sudden proximity as he lay down next to Tooru, but all his mind could focus on was that his best friend — his boyfriend, now — was  _ only _ a few inches away.

The fact that he was only a few inches  _ away _ , too, emphasis on the distance.

Time ticked by without any of them being able to fall asleep. They lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in silence until Tooru couldn’t take it anymore. He rolled to his side to face Hajime, his face barely visible in the darkness but his gaze heavy on him. Only their breaths could be heard, and Hajime was highly conscious of the way his heart raced at the attention.

“Iwa-chan, are you asleep?”

The other cracked a smile, rolling his eyes. He considered teasing Tooru but settled for the truth instead.

“I can’t.”

Tooru inhaled, as if he was going to say something but stopped before he did. Hajime frowned in frustration.

“Me neither,” the setter admitted after a while. “It’s a bit weird, isn’t it?” he asked, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

For six years Tooru had been conscious of his feelings for his best friend — they probably dated back from way earlier, but that was when he had realised — and now that they were dating he was too nervous to sleep by his side.

“I can use the futon if it’s easier for you,” Hajime offered.

Silence was his only response until Tooru blew an annoyed sigh — he was annoyed at himself, annoyed that it wasn’t easier, more natural. Everything between Hajime and him had always felt like falling into place, but for the first time Tooru no longer knew how to act.

“I’d rather have you stay,” he confided, reaching out to take Hajime’s wrist and play with his hand. “I just… Really, I thought it’d be easier.”

He traced a circle on Hajime’s palm and the other’s hand captured his to bring it to his face. Hajime brushed his wrist with his lips, a soft caress that made Tooru fall silent again.

“Oikawa?” he called after a moment. “Can we…”

He pulled slightly on Tooru’s arm, sneaking closer to let his hand hover a few inches away from the other’s skin. Tooru took over, slipping between Hajime’s arms and making himself comfortable. He nuzzled his face in the other’s neck and passed an arm around him, fingers tracing the familiar muscles of his back.

It wasn’t the first time that they hugged, but this one was more intimate than anything they were used to. The air grew hotter between them, and soon Tooru had to pull away to breathe in fresh air.

“Iwa-chan, you’re too hot, I will never be able to sleep this way,” he whined.

Even in the dark, Hajime caught the flirty glance that Tooru flicked him. His laugh tickled Tooru’s skin and Hajime ruffled the other’s hair playfully. Then, he turned his back to Tooru and pulled him closer, intertwining their fingers and pretending he wasn’t blushing like crazy.

Tooru stopped breathing for another couple of seconds. There was no way this could be happening.

They were dating.

_ They were dating. _

He tightened his grip on Hajime and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. They were dating.

* * *

It was on the next morning that chaos really unleashed, precisely when Hajime and Tooru walked down the stairs where the holly still hung forgotten.

As soon as she spotted them, Namiko balanced herself on the back legs of her chair. Her eyes were on Hajime, an insisting question in her eyes to which the younger one replied with a sheepish nod. She didn’t miss the way Tooru’s fingers brushed Hajime’s, and Namiko nearly fell from her seat.

A yell rose in the house, coming from the woman and startling her son who dropped his butter knife in shock.

Namiko rushed to the kitchen like the Devil was on her heels and grabbed the doorframe to call her parents.

“Mom! Dad! That’s it!” she cried out, almost hysterical. “They’re finally done pining! Dad, can you believe it?”

Tooru nearly tripped over his own feet — the only thing that saved him from rolling down the stairs was Hajime’s hand catching him by the collar at the last second. They froze on the spot, watching in horror as Tooru’s parents dashed into the living-room to look at them.

“Honey, give me my phone,” his mother asked, extending her arm. There were real tears in her eyes. Had they really been that obvious?! “I need to call Iwaizumi-san! She’s going to be so happy!”

“Mom!” Tooru hissed, his teeth gritted and his face red.

His boyfriend wasn’t looking much bolder beside him.

Namiko snapped a picture of the new couple to post on her instagram, and Tooru jumped down the remaining stairs in a vain attempt at avoiding the disaster.

At the table, holding a toast half-way to his mouth, Takeru sent Hajime a deadpan expression.

“It’s about time,” the little boy declared.

Hajime blinked. He wasn’t ready to go home and face his own parents — his dad would tease him and his mom would react just like Tooru’s. He was already overwhelmed just thinking about it.

With a sigh, he sat down beside Takeru, grabbed a toast, and enjoyed the blissful time before their teammates found out about their brand new relationship status.

They were dating.

**Author's Note:**

> This took a really long time to edit and went through six different paths but it's finally done! I hope you envoyed it! ♡  
> See you tomorrow for my last fic for the event!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


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